


Joa is Late

by JD_Riley



Category: Transfusions (Webcomic)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 17:04:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10167719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JD_Riley/pseuds/JD_Riley
Summary: Joa is uncharacteristically late to meet up and Dylan gets suspicious.





	

Snowflakes fell as dust. They swirled in just a light breeze, sprinkled over a gray landscape and capturing each other in clumps on the naked branches of the park's trees. Each blade of grass that had been uncovered by a previous thaw was now burdened yet again with the weight of fresh white. The scene, to two large dark eyes was that of a strange watercolor, blending the muted tones of winter until it had become simply a cacophony of shades of gray and diluted whites. Blended and smeared onto reality by some careless immortal hand.

_Immortal._

Dylan put the tips of his fingers to his mouth, pressing just slightly on his bottom lip while he stood in the cold, feeling the frosty breeze acutely as it bit through his clothes.

_Bit._

He blinked down at his phone and found Joa to be late. It wasn't unheard of, he thought, for a being to be late. After all he was only... He blinked and pressed his fingers tighter against his face as if trying to shield himself from his thoughts with the distraction of their force. So why couldn't Joa be late, after all? What was so strange about something so simple? Was it because he _wasn't_ only human? Was it that he'd never been late before?

He glanced down at his phone again and tried very hard not to make any soft sounds of distress when he found Joa not only to be late by just say, a minute, but to be late by a full five. Had he forgotten that they were to meet here? Had something come up? Something—out of the ordinary? Dylan's heart began to beat harder and he heard the blood rushing in his ears. Suddenly, he was warm from the simple stress of it all.

It seemed silly, to become anxious over something so...so minimal. But it was enough. Possibilities raced through his riddled mind. Situations involving the police, other vampires, or even _victims_ came into his brain and he nervously began to walk forward, his feet making soft squishy sounds through the new wet flakes. He came to a bench and considered it, standing awkwardly in front of it and staring down, trying to ascertain whether or not he was anxious enough to ignore the freezing dampness that the snowy bench promised on his rear end.

He didn't stay long. A cold, intimidating presence loomed behind him. He felt it as it rushed forth as though it were a sudden gust and paused behind him as a spectral presence that should have induced fear in normal folks.

_Fear._

As it was, Dylan turned and masked his emotion with snark, crossing his arms and summoning a soft glare.

“You're late and I'm hungry.”

Joa's soft smile was warm despite the ice in his eyes. “I apologize. We should pick up some groceries before we go back to your place so I can make you a proper dinner.”

Dylan brushed back a wayward strand of hair and tried to decide if this was enough for him to be assuaged. “Why were you late?”

Joa took his hand and led him toward the exit of the park. With a secret grin he replied, “It's quite a story.”

* * *

It _was_ quite a story. Joa carefully watched Dylan's face as he told the tale of how he had been held up by a crinkled woman in a trenchcoat who'd tried her damnedest to sell him a watch and when she was unsuccessful with that venture, had stepped in front of him again in order to try to hock something else. Dylan's mouth only quirked up a small bit at the end when Joa explained that his only course of escape was to bodily lift the woman and place her out of his path.

All this was a fabrication, of course, as Joa couldn't possibly tell him the true reason for his lateness.

That, on such a dreary winter's day, he had perhaps witnessed something of a ghost. It had been just a mere glimpse and not even with his eyes, but it had shocked him and there could have been no manner of preparation that could have helped.

As he had been walking briskly toward the park, there had been the whiff of something tragically familiar. A scent that cut through the stale odors of the street and brought to him a past so long ago that he was forced to stop in his tracks and pursue it. But it was gone. Lost to the soft cold breeze and the dark of the early night. But he stood. Lost for a minute in his past which he'd slowly forgotten years ago. A memory of spring flowers and careless summer nights. Things humans took for granted. Something welled up in his stomach. Something more than the simple hunger that plagued him. Something that Dylan had awoken within him not so long ago.

A name fell in a murmur from his lips and dropped, invisible, into the snow at his feet before rising as the faded memories flashed, sepia-toned, in his mind.

_“Jess.”_

The sound of her name as it rose into the falling white seemed to conjure every memory of her. Every tender word she'd spoken and how—oh lord how she'd _loved_ him. The weight of it hit him in the chest and he suddenly couldn't suck in any more breath. For the first time in a _very_ long time, he knew what it meant to miss someone. _Desperately._

But the Jess he'd known was gone. She'd grown up without him. He'd been...left behind. Unnatural. An existential quandary. A tangible haunt. He would never see his Jess ever again.

_His_ Jess.

She was someone else's Jess now.

Alone in the snow, he'd blinked and suddenly gained his bearings, realizing his tardiness and rushing toward the park fast through the swirling white. It had trailed lazily behind him as he'd run.

And now—here—with this dark-haired boy, he'd told a lie. And why? Would Dylan not have understood? He should have. He _would_ have. As much as Joa had already shared, shouldn't this have been easy?

It wasn't that, he decided. It was merely that he wasn't ready yet. To share all _that_ yet. All the tender moments. All the romantic overtures. All of _Jess._ She was selfishly his and would live with him as a memory. Dylan had been responsible for his awakening, but it was Joa's decision what he did with it. And everything that accompanied it.

Right?

For a second, he bit his lip, unsure.

They reached the store and Dylan wandered about and filled Joa's arms with what he thought he needed. Joa very quietly and discreetly placed the items back on the shelf and replaced them with healthier alternatives. White bread was replaced with whole wheat and crisps were replaced with vegetables. This went on for a few minutes while Dylan rambled a bit in that mumbling way he had about how his classes had gone and what his friends had said or done.

Joa was trying to remember everything but kept simultaneously attempting to recreate the memory of that haunting scent. Despite his efforts, it seemed that it was much easier for a scent to trigger a memory than the other way around.

“Are you listening, Joa?” came Dylan's calm question. They were standing in front of the check out and the poor vampire hadn't even noticed.

“Sorry. Still thinking about that watch,” he quipped before rushing payment.

He could tell that he'd said it far too fast. Dylan's usually clueless demeanor had shifted and his large doe eyes had narrowed just a tad. His body language became guarded and he crossed his arms while Joa grabbed their bags. He took just two steps before he realized that Dylan was still standing at the end of the check out lane.

“Dylan?”

“We're going to talk about this.”

A nervous tickle crept into the vampires belly.

“Talk about what?” He hoped it had sounded genuine and not coy. Coy would get him nowhere with the snarky little human he'd come to love. Coy could probably get him deep into some kind of _trouble._

Dylan's eyes narrowed considerably more and his tone grew a sharp edge.

“The _watch_ , Joa. And the fact that I know I didn't pick up peppers.”

“It's a might bit hard to make an omelette with nothing but eggs and crisps, Dylan. It's possible but I'm assuming unappetizing.”

There was a pause but his little human dropped his arms down to his sides and let out a sigh. He gave a small pout as he started to follow.

_Cute. Obstinate, but cute. Very cute._

As they walked, Joa noted the pink in Dylan's cheeks and hoped it was from something other than just ire. Perhaps...affection? Appreciation? It had been so long since Joa had craved acceptance so much. It wasn't a matter of want—it was a matter of need. To the point that to live without it seemed somehow pointless. Seemed...unbearable.

Suddenly, he had to say something. Anything just to hear Dylan's voice.

“Dylan?”

“Yes?” Clipped. Perhaps the pink in his cheeks was truly just his irritation.

“What else happened today? Anything? What about Carolyn?”

At the mention of his other redheaded crush, Dylan stammered just a little. “Sh-She's fine. You know. With...”

“Alf, right? Are they getting on?”

“I guess so. But...” He was doing that cute thing where he bit his lip and sucked it into his mouth. Joa suddenly wanted that lip in his own mouth. The urge was nearly overwhelming to experiment with Dylan's reactions to sudden intimate attention.

“But?” he heard himself say, his voice deeper. Huskier.

“But it doesn't matter,” Dylan said quickly, “I don't want to talk about her.”

Joa grinned a wolfish grin, satisfied with himself and not a small bit prideful of the way Dylan had reacted. His ego stroked and Dylan distracted, he opened the door to Dylan's apartment and followed him inside.

* * *

He put a hand through his black hair, letting the waves and curls slide through his fingers while he watched his boyfriend put away all the food he knew he hadn't picked out.

_Boyfriend._

Such an odd thing to think and then...then not so odd in the least. Standing there in his apartment, his own space, he wasn't uneasy at all with a predator like Joa. A predator and yet still a man. _A man._ Dylan's mind simply had to point out that single fact at every turn. A protective and charming _man_ who loved him. Actually loved him. Deep down, when one swam through the ever-present insecurities that lay between the surface and Dylan's gooey soul, there was no doubt that Joa loved him. There was also no doubt that he loved Joa in return.

So why, after that was said and done and everything seemed so right with the world—with Dylan's world—did Joa feel the need to lie to him?

He didn't want to be paranoid. That wasn't part of his instinct. He'd admitted himself that self-preservation wasn't his strong suit and was not paranoia part of such an instinct? He was reading into things too much, he was looking at things too closely. Where were those rose-colored glasses he'd been wearing this far?

He couldn't ignore this.

“Joa?” he asked as the vampire pulled out a skillet and started preparations to make him dinner.

“Hmm?”

“Was it a Rolex?”

Distracted, Joa replied, “Was what a Rolex?” He immediately realized his mistake and whirled around with a spatula in his hand, straight up toward the sky. “The _watch_?” His mouth was turned down at the sides and his handsome face twisted with guilt. He could have been a great liar to a stranger, but to Dylan he was terribly transparent. Even when he'd been trying to recount his encounter with the old woman, he'd been lacking in his typical flippant story-telling manner that was rife with personal interjections.

Dylan crossed his arms again, feeling a prickly emotion that warmed his face and put a pit in his chest. “There wasn't a watch, Joa.”

The vampire grew stiff, his hand tight around the handle of the spatula. His eyes were wide and his mouth a tight line across his face.

“I'm not mad. I'd just like to know if it's something I should be worried about. Was it...that guy?”

One red brow popped upward and then recognition flashed in Joa's eyes. “Marcel?! No! My god, no! It was...just...”

Dylan found himself leaning forward for the explanation that he knew would come. The redheaded blood-sucker was a born story-teller and he could simply tell from his mere expressions that he was dying to spill every secret. He _wanted_ to tell someone.

Joa gave a great sigh and his hand holding the spatula fell to his side with a whoosh of air. “I smelled something.”

A puzzling statement that made a number of possibilities float to the surface of Dylan's imagination. Smelled something. For a vampire, that could mean all sorts of interesting things. The scent of blood was the first thing that Dylan thought of when it came to Joa's uniqueness. Perhaps a particularly good strain of blood that was irresistible? Different from the rest? Similar to his own? He was overly curious but didn't wish to make it obvious so he nodded just slightly and straightened his posture.

“You smelled something? Like...blood?”

“No,” Joa was looking at the floor. “Like...perfume. And...Dylan...not just any perfume but the kind that...the kind that... _s_ _he_ wears.”

“She?” Confused, Dylan took a step forward, uncrossing his arms, purposefully trying to seem less defensive.

Joa appeared pained. “Jess.” He shook his head, his red hair fanning in front of his eyes. “Dylan, it's stupid. I know it is. She's twenty years older and lord knows where she is but I smelled this perfume and I just...I got lost.” He turned around and abruptly started to make Dylan's dinner again. There was a short span of time in which Joa did not say anything and simply chopped vegetables while Dylan stood like a stick the mud in the middle of the tiny kitchen. When he spoke again, Dylan's human ears had to strain to hear him. “I apologize for being late.”

It was perhaps all that he would be able to get. He shuffled into the other room and set up his laptop with a movie. When Joa had finished making his dinner and had presented it to him, settling with him on the couch, the two of them under a blanket, Dylan relaxed.

Half way through _Blade Runner_ , he yawned and moved to put his head against Joa's shoulder, finding himself welcomed and a kind hand buried in his hair, petting and soothing him as if it were completely natural for a vampire to do so to a human. A sudden and inescapable urge overtook him and he spoke in a murmur.

“I'm sorry about Jess.”

Joa buried his nose is Dylan's hair and took in a long breath before he whispered, “Don't be. Someday I'll get lost and all I'll think of is _you_.”


End file.
